The Arenas
by JuniorWoofles
Summary: My idea of how different people, with different lives fom diferent Districts would react to certain Arenas. Might be from a viewers, stylists or Tributes POV. May the - Games begin signals a new Game with new characters.
1. May the 29th Hunger Games begin

I think fleetingly of the sheepskin fringed denim and tartan top I'd worn for the parade; the cow skin strapless dress I'd worn during my interview. I was so nervous that I'd kept cracking jokes – that much I can remember. It's all that seems real. I've been so focused on training that the thought of home, and possibly never returning there, doesn't seem as real.

I turn and my stylist fades out of sight. I can barely see her trademark yellow jeans as I rise up inside the cocoon of the lift. Blinding sunshine hits me as I lift my head up.

I feel naked and exposed. The tall looming towers around me make me instantly feel that I'll never see my brothers ever again.

Although I'd been training for mad for the weeks after the Reaping, I feel fat and colourless next to the ripped Careers. The two tributes for District 1 give each other a loving glance. This wasn't a ploy for the cameras; I'd heard they'd been together for years. Soon to be torn apart. But I guess that's just the brutality of the Games.

Looking around properly for the first time I could see that the towers were actually connected to form this gigantic structure. We were all standing inside an amphitheatre; derelict and ruined. Bricks and rubbish were strewn all around us. The floor of the place seemed to be decorated with tiny stones, and crumbling rubble; and soon blood. Some parts of the amphitheatre had almost completely rotten away. I saw a small hidey hole located behind the Cornucopia. Only a few might be able to fit through it in one piece.

The buzzer went off and immediately I sprinted off towards the opening. If there's one thing I ride myself one, it's how fast I can run when the situation require. I was so focused on this that I tripped on a piece of rubble. I grabbed whatever it was next to me as I hoisted myself up. I ran round the side of the Cornucopia and slid into the cubbyhole. I found that it was a tunnel and start to run.

I have to get as far away as possible. With so many people in such a tight space I have to find safety; fast.


	2. Hiding, Horror and Homesickness

I'd found a tiny cave. The door was partly concealed and half buried behind rubble. I'd discovered I'd grabbed some matches and an axe. I was used to axes – I sometimes helped at the slaughter house back home. There wasn't much difference was there? I was in a real life slaughter house with 23 little pigs and 1 axe man. I guessed I was probably a piggy, destine to die. I snapped myself out of my gruesome nightmare and looked around the area.

I couldn't help feeling that I'd been blessed with a small stroke of luck. As this thought crossed my head, I heard voices. Distantly at first, but soon they began to get closer to where I was hiding. I snuck over to the side of the wall closest to them; axe in hand.

"That girl with the brown hair, the one from 10, she can _really_ run!" I grinned to myself in the darkness as the small children excitedly discussed my long legs and speed.

"Yeah, she'll probably go far. She could win this, maybe." A second voice, a boy's, joined the girl's and then some more muffled tones that I couldn't make out.

"C'mon," a third voice joined the others, "We need to keep going if we're too escape the Careers."

As they walk away I turn to watch their backs. I'm pretty sure that it was the Boy and Girl from 3 and the Boy from 7. They were so young; 13, 14 at the most; only a few years younger than me.

I heard them round the corner, followed by piercing screams. They seem to ricochet off the walls in every direction, hurtling through my spine and sending shivers of helplessness al around my soul.

Without thinking, I jump out from behind the brick wall to face their attacker. A quick slice of my axe and the Boy from 9's head is severely bludgeoned in. The laugh on his twisted face, from his first and last, triple murder still there.

I take his knives and his bag as I return to my hole. I feel nauseated as I realise what I've done. Mindlessly, still in shock, I add his knives a meagre water supply and a blanket to my small hoard of stuff.

Then I hear them. Louder than the screams; but with just as much meaning and horror. Cannons. They blast all around me, 1, 2, 3, soon 10 cannons have been blasted. I could have prevented three of them. I feel like a murderer, blood that I didn't spill crawling into my soul. If only I'd teamed up with those kids they might have survived, even if it was just for a little while longer. Then I might not have had to murder. Not yet, at least.

For the first time since I left home I cry. I open up my soul to the Game makers as the tears fall in waterfalls down my face. I cry for my mother, the woman who raised me, who I may never see again. I cry for my situation, of the blood that hangs like a cloak around us all. The tears fall onto the stone floor beneath me and I begin to rock myself, like a poor little baby, in the blanket I'd claimed.

Next thing I know, its morning; I've survived my first night in the Hunger Games.


	3. 3 Death Threats

I pack up my stuff into the blanket, except the axe. That I carry in one hand with the blanket full of my stuff in the other. Now I really feel like the pigs from that really old story. I walk for a while, preparing myself for the moment that I would need to run.

I explore my surroundings for an hour or two; it's hard to tell with no sun to keep an eye on time. I try to find steps to get up or down, but so far, nothing. My head aches, my shorts rub and my vest top is drenched in sweat. I stop and create the smallest of fires and savour a few drops of water to try and regain some fitness.

Then I hear a noise, like a shoe knocking against a pebble. I'm scare to move, unsure if the person is aware of my presence or not. The answer; yes.

The Girl from 4 steps out; her ponytail swinging. She looks posed and coy; not at all scared like I was at my interview. She knows exactly what she wants, and she knows that she's going to get just that.

She swings she spear round menially, the sharp point swooping through the air loudly. There's an evil sort of glint in her eye and I feel trapped. I can easily predict her next move after studying all the Careers carefully during Training. She throws and I dodge accordingly, rolling straight into a wall.

"Come out little cowgirl," She calls. The tone in her voice is so innocent like she thinks I'm dumb enough to fall for it. "The more you hide, the more pain you will feel." _Liar,_ I think in my mind. She'll hurt me as much as she can, no matter when I submerge.

I can just about see her from where I am, in her blue clothing. The Tributes from 4 have an excellent eye for targets, so I just won't give her one.

"I swear to you in my own promise that I will hunt you down and pluck you just like the cowardly chickens you rear and are." She spits on the ground, getting impatient now. She's still staring at the wall in front of her, convinced that I'm sitting there.

"HURRY UP! I'm tired of playing games. Can we cut to the end yet where the winner is announced?" She stamps her foot, waiting in fury. Little does she know that I've already moved from the safety of my hiding spot.

"BOO!" I shout from behind her. She jumps and rams herself forward into brick. The force knocks a small heap of rubble, which shift and land on her unconscious head. "_Winner_" I mutter.

I walk toward her cautiously until I realise she's not just unconscious. Cannon confirms what I know in my heart to be true. She's dead. I've murdered again. Cannon. And I'm not the only one.


	4. Strangest Feelings Make You Sick

So that's 12 dead and it's hardly the middle of the second day. Wait, no, 13. The Cannons sound through the tunnels, rushing past me.

I add the spear and jacket that she had to my pack and follow the direction that the cannons came from. I must go on, though my stomach wants me to pause, either to eat or throw up I cannot tell.

I start wearily, but proud. I wear even sicker at the thought but it's true. She looked so fierce and smart back at the Capitol and I had just defeated her. Me, a plain girl who stood out at home for her styled bob hair and her stomach for the most gruesome tasks. I was glad that my family couldn't read my thoughts, as I had no idea if they would be pleased, scared or proud? I was all three but I was living the hell that they were merely watching.

I'd been walking at a good pace for a while when I came to a dead end. There were steps leading up, however and another flight leading downwards into a shallow pit. Up a few steps, there was a window. Through the small hole in the wall I could see that it was late evening and soon the seal of Panem would flash up in the sky.

I sat in the corner next to the stairs and noticed, for the first time, how completely and utterly hungry I was. My stomach was aching so much from the lack of any nutrition in the past two days that I felt that soon I might die of hunger. I knew I shouldn't have had that much pudding back at the Capitol. My stomach ached and groaned and I hugged it as I closed my eyes in despair.

When I reopened them, I found, much to my surprise, a small silver parachute had landed in front of me. I opened it eagerly to find a small container of warm soup and bread. The steam emitted seemed to light up my whole insides. I picked up the little card that had fallen out to see that I said "STAY STRONG." I smiled in spite of my surroundings and dug in.

After a few mouthfuls I noticed a fight between two boys on the other side of the theatre. I moved over so that I was positioned in the shadows right next to the window and I watched. The Boys were leaping between two crumbling columns, trying to deal deadly blows to each other. After a moment's thought, I replaced the lid on my soup to keep some heat in and placed it down to watch fully.

It looked like the Boys were from 2 and 5. Their swords were constantly flashing in the dull moonlight. The Boy from 2 ducked to avoid a blow and then proceeded to jab at the other's feet. 5 jumped backwards, attempting to dodge the blow. He missed his footing and my heart seemed to miss a beat but he just managed to hold on to the smallest piece of the edge as he could. I knew he was going to fall and I couldn't bear to watch but I couldn't pull my eyes away from the sight either.

The Boy from 2, thinking as I did, got bored of waiting for him to fall and begin to walk off, convinced that the other would give up soon enough.

But he was wrong. The Boy from 5 was stronger than he looked and he pulled himself up hastily, launching his sword at the Career's head as he did so. It landed directly in its target and the Career crumpled and toppled off the side of the structure.

The Boy from 5 stood up grimly, nodding his head in respect at the cannon.

A new feeling awoke within me. I couldn't quite work out what it was. All reasonable explanations just weren't reasonable in this situation. I was a sort of new found respect for the boy. He could hardly be older than me, yet he seemed so much wiser and mature in ways I could never imagine. He only killed because he had too, and was sorry and respected the poor soul. He wasn't a monster, only a gentleman. The games, hadn't and I was pretty sure they wouldn't, change him.

Was I? God, I simply couldn't be. This was a complete stranger. And I was in the Hunger Games were only one came out alive. This could be the death of me if what I was hiding from myself was true. I shake my head to try and get rid of the thought but it only becomes clearer in my mind.

Then I do what I'd been threatening to do for days. I turn away from the window and throw up the pitiful mouthfuls of soup.


	5. I won't say THAT L word

I wake up, shivering and smelling of sick.

It's really vile and it's ruined most of my supplies. I gather up the soup, axe and few matches that weren't splattered. I rip of a piece of blanket that wasn't hit and bundle them all in.

I run up the stairs, desperately craving clean air to set my thought straight. I gasp as my head hits the top of the stairwell and I escape from the stuffy tunnels. The air is so sharp that it would have hurt a lot if it wasn't so healing. I kneel at the top checking that nothing was about. Every single thing I thought about last night goes whirling around my head like a crazy spinning top of emotion. I sift through them looking for something, anything; but every single thought in my head all leads down one road of conclusion, one singular thought.

I'm in Love.

If I had ever thought I would fall in love before I died, I would never have thought it would have been_ in_ the Hunger Games. The odds must be so slim, and the chances of me ever reaching him in time to tell him must be even slimmer.

Maybe, realistically thinking, he might have a girl back home in District 5. Maybe I'm not his type. Maybe he has a type. Maybe I'm over thinking this.

With my hormones raging like this, I was in no fir state to fight. I ran swiftly along the side of the wall, narrowly missing an arrow that wasn't intended for me.

I managed to get about half way around from the point where I was originally when I stopped. Hidden behind a pillar, I paused to drain the rest of my soup. The vegetables and bread I left with the mind to eat them later if no more parachutes came between now and the time when I would eat again, whenever that would be.

After my lukewarm lunch, I check the sun. It must be about 2 / 3 o'clock in the afternoon. I grab my belongings and continue to walk.

I keep glancing, absent-mindly and not even realising at times, at the spot where the fight took place last night. I wonder if the boy is still there or whether he has moved on, and to where if he has. I can't even remember his name. Probably better because naming things, or knowing the names of the things helps you to get attached.

Attachment is how I put my defences down and I just can't afford to do that here.


	6. Rocks, Rubble and Romance?

I continue to duck and dodge unintentional bullets and shots as I weave and twist in and out of pillars. My feet seem to somehow know where they're taking me; even if the rest of me isn't quite sure.

Then it hits me like a tidal wave of sudden knowledge; they're taking me to the person I most want to be with. I sigh, shake my head, but I can't stop a grin from spreading all over my face as easily as butter on bread. The adrenaline of being in love sure was something.

I begin to climb up a broken arch, pressing my body up against it as flat as I can. I scratch my knees a few times until small droplets of blood fall, but I still reach the top in no time.

Once I reach the top I jump from the top of the arch to the nearest platform. It wobbles as I land sharply on it, rolling onto my side to stop myself from falling over the edge. There's a gushing cut in my hand, a steady trickle that's draining me of even more blood. I tenderly wrap it up with a small tear of blanket. I sigh and wipe my grimy hands across my forehead to relive me of some of the sweat.

Then out of nowhere, the Boy from 4 comes running at me. I don't even spin around to double check that it is; I just drop my pack in fight and bail. My reflex's kicking in I jump again to the next stretch of a landing and run. I ignore the throbbing in my knees from where I landed and focus on putting all of my power into my legs. I sprint down the corridor, leaping over cracks and rocks.

I run through and empty doorway, a few mere feet ahead of the Boy. I'm out on energy and I have to make a stand. I'm pretty stuck with no weapons though but I have an idea. I begin to bang my fists against the stone around the archway, putting all of the last remaining strength I possess into each pound. My knuckles leave trails of blood on the rocks as I pound but I need the wall to collapse. And it does.

I barely have enough time to jump back before a wall of rubble falls down like a waterfall. It caves in the door which causes a chain reaction which causes the whole section to quack and shake and collapse in on it. Without waiting to see if 4 survived, I sprint off down the corridor. I skid round a corridor before I hear the cannon. I breathe out a breath I hadn't even noticed I was holding. For now; I'm safe.

Or maybe not. I can sense someone in the chamber with me. I'm defenceless with no weapon and no energy and I hardly dare to breathe again. I could feel my heart throbbing through my chest. Its loud beating s seemed to my ears to be vibrating all around the room, giving my position away too easily. I sneak behind me and keep still into the shadows.

Then_ he_ walks past. The Boy from District 5. I'd never really studied him much back at the Capitol but now I realise just how gorgeous he is. His brown eyes, as deep as the Earth itself, stare into the depths of the room as if he's searching for something, or some_one. _They stare hard, but so full of regret and in that one instant I'm scared.

The eyes stop searching and stare at the exact spot I'm in. Then he opens his mouth and speaks.

"Hello District 10."


	7. Making Moves, Takng Chances

My body seems to freeze, every muscle locking into place. I have no idea whether from shock or surprise, I couldn't say. I make sure that I'm pressed right up to the wall, until it scratches my back before I reply.

"Have you been watching me District 5?" I ask innocently, trying to forget that it was actually the other way around.

"Yes." The singular word makes my heart dance in excitement. "But only for as long as you've been watching me."

I pause and bit my lip, unsure of how to reply to this. I don't have to reply, however, because before I can think of anything he's already answering.

"I saw you last night, for the first time really. You turned away just as looked over. The face shining in the distance helped me to get back up. When I next looked over all I recognised was your hair."

I stroke my sleek bob in the darkness, thankful the shadows were probably masking the blush I knew was scarlet upon my face.

"You can come out now, you know. If I was going to kill you, do you not think I would have done it by now?" His voice is warm, like the melted treacle we get for birthdays, and somehow I trust him, stranger though he may be.

I throw my hands up in surrender as I step out of the shadows. I pretend to look confident by there's a maze of butterflies in my stomach as I walk out to greet him.

As I do, I notice him fully for the first time. His muscles are flexed but he has a cut lip and a swollen check. He's slouched against the wall with his hands over his chest but he mimics my hand action when he notices me. We both lower our hands at the same time, and he catches mine in his. His hands are warm and strong and in that moment I feel most definitely safe.

He lets go of one of hands and begins to caress my face and cheek. I nuzzle my face into his hand and somehow it feels right; as though this is where we were both born to be.

He smiles at me and his teeth shine, even with the lack of brushing and light.

Next thing I know, we're kissing and electricity is flowing through me. I run my hand through his hair and he moves his hand to support my neck, while still stroking my face with the other. He's so gentle, and yet so strong, and I don't want to ever let him go.

I just want to let myself go in that moment, submerge myself entirely in his warmth. I want to forget the games, the deaths, the cameras; I even want to forget District 10 and my family. Nothing is real in that moment. Not the coliseum or the cut in my hand, or all of the nation watching.

Nothing matters but him.


End file.
